


of soldiers and spies

by dancingwiththewind (highfaenyx)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gen, a character study of a kind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:02:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26796319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/highfaenyx/pseuds/dancingwiththewind
Summary: she remembers the important parts.
Relationships: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 8
Kudos: 20





	of soldiers and spies

They bring up Budapest in their usual conversations often, dropping the name casually. Clint smiles, Natasha mirrors his expression; but if she was being honest with herself, the whole operation leading to her defection turned into a blur after so many years and so many other fights and other famous landmarks. Bits and pieces — everything that is left to her.

It is enough. She remembers the important parts.

She remembers a Russian spy — only a girl, really, barely a woman — the infamous Red Room training, a brainwashed mind only starting to clear and a gaze full of fear.

And a circus acrobat facing her, too good with a bow to ever be allowed to live as a simple civilian. He is reaching out his hand to help her get across the chasm.

“Leap,” he tells her. “I will catch you on the other side. Promise.”

Despite herself, she believes him.

Despite herself, Natasha jumps, takes Clint’s hand, boards the helicarrier, meets Fury, and the rest is history.

Despite herself, she knows that some promises are to be kept.

***

In the books they will write centuries from now, the rest is history. The rest is the team of the mightiest superheroes who fought and won, usually; but the louder the bells of victory rang in Natasha’s ears, the more fear crept up her spine. They have all climbed too high, more gods than usual people now.

_How is it to fall,_ she thinks, _when there is no one to catch you?_

The great divide between Tony and Steve left a bitter taste in her mouth; but she was a spy once, and knew better than to choose one side in a battle which would have no victors.

Still, they were gods playing with each other, really, and Natasha got accustomed to the invincibility that their missions carried. She should have known better, she would have thought if she had seen the future.

Because then Thanos came, and the almost gods hit the hard ground, and became humans again.

She should have known better, she thinks.

***

Natasha fell. Natasha spent years and years in the Avengers headquarters leading the team.

Sometimes, she didn’t feel anything. Most of time, she feels like she wasn’t enough — she is a spy, not a leader, she wasn’t trained for this job, for this war. But then no one really was trained for _this —_ people disappearing into thin air, people losing their loved ones, people in destruction and havoc. No one has trained her for losing friends she cared for; no one has trained her for _caring._

“A burger, Nat?” Steve asks her, a usual grin highlighting the strong lines of his face, as he casually drops by her office in the headquarters.

She cannot look away; cannot not smile in return.

Tony might have been the heart of the Avengers, but Steve was their spirit, their unyielding figure of honour and bravery. More importantly, Steve Rogers was Natasha’s stone, her only sound and solid structure when everything else seemed to be crumbling apart.

It would be a lie to say she did not consider him attractive; _who wouldn’t, honestly,_ she thinks.

But it was never enough - not for Natasha, at least. She had seen plenty of attractive men and women in her life.

There was something more about Steve.

_I would trust you - now,_ he said to her back then, shortly after they met, and that pulled a string inside her, the one she thought didn’t exist anymore. _What would have happened,_ she thinks, _if we trusted each other from the very beginning, if we didn’t have a reason to have so much suspicion in our hearts and our heads?_

_I care for Steve Rogers, maybe more deeply than I will ever admit,_ Natasha realises with a clarity she possesses; the similar clarity which helps her identify the weaknesses of her enemies she intends to use against them, and she sees her own weakness all the same.

But Steve is a soldier, and Natasha is a spy, and they are both not who they were meant to be. Yet, somehow, the universe had decided that a sickly boy from New York and a fragile little girl from Moscow meet, here and now. So maybe they are exactly where they are meant to be, brought together by the destiny or a chance.

Their universe is vast and unpredictable, and has its own ways.

They smile at each other, and for a short time she feels accepted, cared for, trusted; _he catches me when I fall_ , she thinks. _Maybe, it is enough._

“Sure, Steve,” she says. “I need a break.”

Later, she cries in his embrace, tears of despair and hopelessness, and seeks for reassurance in his arms. They’ve known each other for all too long, and speak with their gazes rather than words. The words are too expensive or don’t mean anything at all, in the end.

_Sometimes I think I cannot do this anymore, Steve._

_I know, Natasha. I know._

“You are our soul, Nat,” he says, and holds her tighter. “So please hold on for a bit longer.”

_We are doomed if you leave us._

“Stay with me,” she whispers, not at all sure that he will hear — begging is not for former Russian spies, proud and stoic. But Steve cradles her, and leaves a kiss on her forehead.

_Promise._

_***_

The rest is history: the time travel, the stones, Natasha’s short-lived joy of seeing Clint again, alive, hopeful and laughing. The rest is the price they have to pay.

_Was this the moment my fate prepared me for,_ Natasha contemplates.

_A fall with no one on the other side. A trust. A sacrifice. A soul to be._

“Let me go,” she whispers to Clint. It is not exactly what she wants to say; but, if be honest, she was never good at saying things as they are — one of the many by-products of being raised a spy.

_Clint, my friend. Tell the Avengers - no, tell my_ **_family_ ** _that this was not in vain._

_Tell Steve — I would not have survived these years if he hadn’t been there. Tell him… Tell him I wish we had more time._

_But there is never enough time,_ Natasha thinks. _I used it as well as I could._

Clint’s grip is stronger than ever, but she knows how to let go of it.

“It’s ok,“ she says instead, smiling.

_I will catch you on the other side._

_I trust you._

_Promise._

And leaps into the abyss.

**Author's Note:**

> Natasha lives in my heart, no matter what. Comments and kudos welcome as always!


End file.
